


Marked

by Thelittlescrimshaw



Series: Pure Unadulterated Crack [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, I am fucking trash guys, I'm Sorry, PWP, Smut, crackfic, no i'm not, pure unadulterated crack, that is what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6819592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelittlescrimshaw/pseuds/Thelittlescrimshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are certain things you don't expect to find out about your sworn enemy. For example, Rey never thought she'd find out that Kylo Ren was a masochist. Well, sort of. Pure, unadulterated crack written under the influence of too much caffeine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry *hides*

There were certain things you never expected to find out about your sworn enemy. Certain boundaries are simply not crossed. There’s no reason to know your enemy’s favorite color, or hobbies, or sexual preferences.

For example, Rey had never expected to find out that Kylo Ren was a masochist.

Well, okay, not a _true_ masochist – that was a psychological problem that Rey was _not_ prepared to deal with, enemy or no, because _really,_ there has to be something profoundly wrong with you if what is essentially tantamount to abuse gets you off, and there was _already_ something profoundly wrong with Kylo Ren. (And no, Rey was _not_ about to discuss how she’d become privy to this knowledge, _thankyouverymuch._ )

Ahem.

At any rate, Kylo Ren liked it rough, maybe a little _too_ rough, in bed, and Rey wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge.

It _did_ come in handy, to her surprise.

She’d been ambushed when she’d gone off-world, her ship overtaken by his. But he was alone – a solo mission, and there was a pun with his name in there somewhere – and even though Rey was strong, he still outclassed her, got lucky in the small space, had her pinned against the durasteel wall, leaning in, saber nearly grazing her face…

It was almost too easy, really.

Rey leaned in and nipped at his neck. It was perhaps the most unsexy neck-biting in the world, but it did the job.

Kylo Ren made a strangled sound and jumped back. “You _bit_ me!”

“You liked it,” Rey said, and charged at him.

He blocked her saber easily, eyes narrowed. “You fucking _bit me!”_

Rey didn’t make to answer, more concentrated on figuring out how she was going to escape. He’d made several half-hearted attempts at her capture before, and Rey wasn’t _too_ worried per se – Kylo was embarrassingly incompetent when it came to her, but…

She stepped back, made to jab, but he swept his blade down and blocked it, stepping forward and bearing down on her.

He leaned in close, forcing Rey into a corner as she stepped back.

“Do it again,” he said, eyes glowering, “I fucking dare you, _scavenger_.”

Rey rolled her eyes. The whole pretending-to-not-know-her-name was getting old. But she recognized a challenge when she saw one, and she wasn’t one to back down.

So she did – it was too easy, his neck was exposed to her, and he dropped his saber when she dragged her teeth across his flesh.

Rey was a bit more prepared – she kept her saber at her hip, sheathed, and was not at all surprised when a gloved hand came up at the back of her head and _pushed,_ making her teeth bear down harder.

He let out a sigh at that; Rey moved her mouth, nipping at his earlobe, his collarbone, the base of his throat. She left angry purple marks in her wake – seriously, for a Sith Lord wannabe he bruised like a fucking _peach_ – and fisted her free hand into his hair, gave a tug.

He picked her up, mumbled a breathy _“don’t stop”_ and brought her to his sleeping quarters.

 _Good,_ Rey thought to herself. Once he fell asleep, she’d be able to get away easily.

For a Sith Lord wannabe, he slept like a fucking rock.

He kicked off his boots, stripped off his shirt, tugged at Rey’s tunic. She did the same, not bothering with pretenses. She’d been here before, and it was turning into a _game._

Kylo had a finger hooked under her chest bindings, and in one quick motion had them off, discarded on the floor. His hands ghosted over her breasts, mouth coming down to lave at them, teasing her nipples, making her almost whine. She dug her nails into his back when his teeth scraped _just so,_ and with a hiss of frustration, Rey grabbed him by the wrists and pinned him down, knees on either side of his torso.

She put all of her weight into it, rolling her hips against his obvious erection, ghosting her lips over the shell of his ear before returning to his neck.

 _“Fucking bite me like you mean it,”_ he groaned, and Rey obliged, giving up pinning him down in favor of fisting a hand into his hair to hold his neck in place. He was most sensitive right behind his ears. Rey teased him, first kissing lightly, then sucking, then going in with her teeth, harder, until he was practically writhing beneath her.

Seriously, for a Sith Lord wannabe, he made it took fucking easy.

Rey reached an arm down, cupping his cock through his pants, gave a light squeeze.

In an instant he was on her, mouth on her breasts again and hands intent upon ridding her of her pants. He did it on one swift motion, and Rey kicked them off from around her ankles.

She raked her nails down his back when he slid a finger inside of her, thumb circling around her clit. He knew which spot to hit that would make her scream, knew that she’d leave scores on his back and chest before she broke under the waves of pleasure and dare let out a sound.

It wasn’t long before she did, screaming into his mouth, his lower lip between her teeth, and he used her post-coital haze as an opportunity to take his own pants off. Such was their unspoken agreement: no penetration until Rey had orgasmed first, preferably more than once.

For a Sith Lord wannabe, he was a surprising gentleman in bed.

Rey slammed him back down on the mattress and took his length into her mouth, dragging her teeth ever-so-lightly along the shaft. He positively shivered. Rey flicked her tongue over the tip, sat up, pinned him by his wrists, and took him inside of her.

And they fucked, Rey’s nails alternately leaving scores along his chest and pinning his wrists beside his head, and she came seconds after he did, and when he stood to get a towel to clean himself off with, she admired her handiwork: angry red marks on his torso and back, purpling bruises on his neck and hips and chest, and half-moons from her nails were she’d clenched his wrists too hard.

For a Jedi-in-training, Rey was really bad at the whole abstinence thing. And the peaceful thing.

Then again, she routinely hate-fucked Kylo Ren, Masochist Extraordinaire. He _liked_ having angry red lines and purpling bruises on his body.

She knew, because he’d shown them off on the battlefield before.

Rey slipped away after he left, re-hijacking her X-Wing and returning to her errands. She left a note first, though, because she was nothing if not direct.

_Not-Ben-Solo,_

_Next time, at least pretend to put up a fight? You’re way too sub._

_Sincerely,_

_Not-Scavenger_

She knew they’d meet again.

She could only hope he’d heed her suggestion.

**Author's Note:**

> *goes into the sin bin where i belong*


End file.
